


in the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene

by heyimflamel



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse, Badly, Beating, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Death, Evil Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Sam | Awesamdude, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Sad Ending, THIS IS VERY GRAPHIC, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Violence, tommy gets beaten to death in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29809254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyimflamel/pseuds/heyimflamel
Summary: When Tommy thought about his death, he always thought it would be on his own terms.As usual, his death was decided by Dream.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) & Other(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	in the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene

**Author's Note:**

> ⚠️READ THE TAGS FOR CONTENT WARNINGS! THIS INCLUDES A GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH AND IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART⚠️  
> .  
> title from Take Me To Church by Hozier

Tommy flew back with the first throw, his nose aching and eyes watering. His vision was blurred with tears. The lava and obsidian melted into one another and Dream's orange prison outfit stood out against the dark stone.

"D-Dream, Dream..." Tommy mumbled frantically, scrabbling back on the floor.

His hands and elbows had scraped the floor and blood dripped on his shirt. Dream was an open book without his mask and the insidious grin on his face told no lies.

"You talk big game, Tommy." Dream tutted, at once disappointed and deeply amused. "Come on, what is it? Another apology? You know that's not enough."

A rough hand yanked Tommy's blonde hair, shaking his head this way and that with his body following weakly. The small rations of food kept him tired and hungry this past week. Dream continued grinning, shaking Tommy back and forth by his hair.

His scalp hurt.

"Come on, speak up! I can't hear you."

He wanted to go home. He wanted Wilbur, or Ghostbur, or any version of Wilbur he could have. He wanted Phil to swoop in and come save him, or hell, even Technoblade to storm the prison and get him out. He wanted Sam to come and protect him like he promised.

"Just admit it, Tommy, you missed me," Dream cooed, "Just apologise and maybe I'll forgive you. We could be friends again, Tommy. Say the word and I'll be your friend, I'll care about you."

Tommy's vision swum and he waited for it to vaguely focus enough for there only to be one mask less Dream instead of three.

"Fuck you, you manipulative, lying bastard," Tommy said meekly, though he knew he'd regret it.

The older man sneered and tightened his grip on the teen's hair. It was painful like thousands of pricks shooting through his head. Tommy couldn't dodge the next punch in time, connecting with his jaw and snapping his head as far back as it could go with Dream's other hand there to keep him in place.

Tommy grit his teeth and winced when it made his throbbing jaw worse. He could already feel the bruise bloom, having experience with such injuries from his exiles and the past wars he was a part of.

~~_(I didn't want to start the war, I didn't want to fight my friends, I wanted to have fun, I wanted to be a kid, I want I want I want)_ ~~

Without a chance to grab his bearings, Tommy was hit again.

And again.

And again.

A well-placed punch to the stomach knocked the air out of him, making him gasp in surprise. Tommy sobbed. Shame and embarrassment crawled up his neck when he felt tears slide down his cheeks. When he started crying, he couldn't stop, and the pain only got worse.

Ribs cracked and his lungs burned. He couldn't tell what way was up, down, left or right soon enough with a punch to his temple. A bony elbow stabbed into the side of his head, making Tommy's ears ring. The concussion would get worse the longer this went on, Tommy knew. His body felt like one big bruise. There was a hand around his neck but not cutting off circulation yet. It was a threat, and Tommy was too weak to object.

Another punch to the other side of his jaw made him sob louder, begging. He wasn't sure what he was begging for, but Dream laughed and jeered. The words didn't make sense at all. Tommy was too focused on the awful pulsing in his stomach and the rattle of his lungs to care about words. His sides were lines of fire up to his armpits. The pinch of pulled hair was insignificant compared to the uncomfortable swelling of his eyes and nose.

He begged. Prayed, even though he didn't think any God existed, at least not on this server. He begged for Sam to swoop in and save him from this Hell, for someone to hear what was going on and stop Dream from hurting him. He begged for Ghostbur to phase through the wall and get someone, anyone, to get him away from this place.

Tommy uselessly tried to fight back, kicking and flailing his arms in the general direction of Dream's chest and face. He pulled and scraped his hands even more on the rough floor in an attempt to escape. Dream laughed and hit him again for his troubles.

The next punch hit the swell of his cheek. Tommy bit his tongue and screamed as copper invaded his mouth. There wasn't a single place above the neck that didn't feel sore and bruised, or swollen, inflated like a balloon.

This couldn't be how he lost his last life. It couldn't. This couldn't be how he died for real on this damned server. He, who outlived a tyrant and his older brother, who survived wars and battles more trying and exhausting than this, who survived not one but two exiles... He couldn't die at the hands of Dream again. He couldn't let Dream have his way, again, like he did with L'manburg's destruction twice and Tommy's second exile and Eret's betrayal.

All he could do was try. He tried to fight back, tried to escape, tried to hold back the sobs to not give this—this manipulator, his _abuser_ , any satisfaction. Sadly, Tommy couldn't do it for long.

_Smack_

Tommy hiccuped, black dots and bright flashes of light consuming his vision.

_Crack_

Slick slid down the side of his head and matted his hair. He yelled out when he felt another rib give way under the force and pressure of Dream's fist.

_Clack_

His teeth slammed together, and he coughed out a chunk of one. A small mercy that he didn't swallow it, but made it no less agonising to feel the tooth split along his gum line.

_Slap_

Tommy begged. Begged for mercy, for his father (Sam or Phil, he couldn't tell, but both had promised protection and safety and neither delivered), for Wilbur to come and save him, because Wilbur's the only person who took care of Tommy better than any father figure he's ever turned to. He begged for the pain to stop, for Dream to stop, for the punches to cease and for sweet silence and peace.

"You need to be taught a lesson, Tommy. I know what's good for you, you know?" Dream replied cheerfully.

His fist was covered in blood.

Another loud crunch cut through the cell when Dream's knuckles descended on Tommy's cheekbone. Everything hurt. Everything was white-hot pain, misery and shame rolled in to one. It was the only thing he felt, where his legs and arms felt numb and feeble, his abdomen and his head and face burned with a bone-deep ache.

"Dr'm... Dr'm ple's' stop," Tommy begged, voice slurred and rough.  
Dream's fingers pinched his cheeks tightly, digging into the tender skin and bruises. New pain mixed with old pain, new blood rushed beneath the surface to join what pooled there earlier. Tommy could feel his abuser's fingers through his cheeks and on his teeth. His freshly broken tooth sliced his inside cheek and brought more blood out through his veins.

"Oh Tommy," the man said pityingly but it was mocking and insincere, "You already made your choice, remember?"

There was no time to reply, and honestly, Tommy didn't think he could reply. His tongue stung and his face felt too big and bloated in Dream's hand to risk it in fear of cutting his cheek again. Then again, Tommy was known for taking risks, and continued to plead.

"Dr'm ple's'..." the teen sobbed, "S'm'one... Anyone... 'M s'rry."

The blonde's head smashed against the floor with an ugly, wet sound from the power behind Dream's slap. Tommy watched the lights and black spots melt on the ceiling. He saw double, triple, quadruple of everything in his line of sight.

"Pl's' no... I d'n't want..."  
He choked and gasped as his neck was hit. It had been graciously kept out of the torment up until now, though it seemed that it wasn't safe anymore.

"I—"

_Slap_

"—no, no, pl's'—"

_Smack_

"—T'chie... Dad... W'lby... S'm'one—"

_Crack_

Tommy felt lightheaded. With each croaked plea and sad little hiccup, he grew weaker and weaker. His body fell limp a long time ago to Dream's ministrations. It was hopeless, really. His eyes were fluttering and he struggled to keep coherent thought at all. Everything muddled together, with buzz words like "Techno", "Wilbur", "Dad" and "Tubbo" popping up every once in a while.

The teen could have cried when he felt it stop, but with a pause in the onslaught of abuse came an insurmountable pain all over his upper body. It attacked him all at once, forcing another gasp and a hitched sob from his lips. He looked around in a panic, looking for the slightest hint of a green mask, or black silky wings, or pink skin and a red cloak, or a bright yellow jumper. Instead, Tommy was face to face with Dream and his toxic green eyes and his heavily scarred face.

"Say hello to Schlatt for me," Dream requested, the smile on his face simple and reminiscent of his mask.

He raised Tommy's head up slightly, keeping eye contact. Then, he slammed Tommy's face into the floor.

_Crunch_

Slam after slam after slam formed a rapidly growing puddle of red on the cell floor. Each time Tommy's face came up it was more bloody and mushed than before. Still, Dream didn't stop and simply kept going. The sound of lava bubbling and oozing from the cell entrance, coupled with the far-off sound of TNT exploding, didn't manage to drown out the sticky splash of the blonde's head beating the floor.

Tommy had no thought. He only pictured the long, flowing coat of an exiled founder and the wickedly curled horns of a ruthless dictator before finally succumbing to a darkness he was all too-familiar with.

**Author's Note:**

> oops. my finger slipped :).
> 
> comments/reviews are appreciated! thanks for reading


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